


this ain't a college, it's a goddamn money laundering scheme

by slotumn



Series: Bittersweet: Lysithea Week 2020 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Drunk Dialing, Drunk Online Test Taking, Drunken Shenanigans, Gen, Humor, ooc for humorous purposes, this is an elaborate shitpost disguised as a fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slotumn/pseuds/slotumn
Summary: For the record, Lysithea von Ordelia did not take her final exam drunk on purpose.---In which Lysithea finally snaps from academic pressure.
Relationships: Golden Deer Students & Lysithea von Ordelia
Series: Bittersweet: Lysithea Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044072
Kudos: 15
Collections: Lysithea Week 2020





	this ain't a college, it's a goddamn money laundering scheme

For the record, Lysithea von Ordelia did not take her final exam drunk on purpose. 

Quite the opposite, in fact; even during quarantine, Lysithea had been very much studious and attentive, checking into all the online lectures and study groups, despite the fact it was getting increasingly difficult to justify paying all that tuition for a couple of group facechats a week. (At least she had a scholarship.)

The system to turn in assignments and take tests online always got errors and never worked as intended, but nonetheless, she endured, submitting and re-submitting and emailing as much as she had to, for the sake of her precious GPA. 

And all her favorite cafés and pastry shops were temporarily closed, had a million restrictions, or just straight up went out of business, but that was totally okay. She had a microwave and a mini-fridge in her dorm, she could use that to make those easy no oven recipes all over the internet, and...

...who was she kidding, she was about to lose it. 

So that's probably why she didn't pay attention to the can of lemonade she was taking out of the fridge for a nice refreshing pick-me-up before the online exam, opening the tab and chugging most of it in one shot.

It took a while for her to notice the taste left on her tongue by the was kind of strange, and—

"...Hard lemonade?"

—realize that she would soon be fucking wasted. 

\---

But, well, despite the fact her alcohol tolerance was low and her face was already starting to heat up by the time she got to the computer and sat down...

...she could still move the mouse and click the thing she wanted on the screen. And the words on the test page were comprehensible. 

The first part of the test was multiple choice, so if you could read the question and click on the right answers, that was enough, right?

Right. 

"Easy-peasy," Lysithea giggled to herself, clicking "Begin" on the page. 

Then she cracked open another can of hard lemonade, because the alcohol in it didn't even taste that bad, once it got going. 

\---

Lysithea sped through the multiple choice even faster than she usually did. 

Normally, she went over the test several times and double, triple-checked, but honestly, was that really necessary when she got most of it right the first time, anyway? 

Hell no!

The mouse clicks grew faster and faster, as her laughter, tinged by insanity only a piss drunk college student in quarantine could develop, grew louder and louder. 

\---

"Ohhhh, come on..."

The fourth or fifth bottle of hard lemonade fell and spilled all over the sheets of paper she wrote her free response in.

Thankfully, the pen she was using was bleed-proof, and she'd already written all the answers; her handwriting was a little messy, compared to the usual, but hey, if the TAs could parse Claude and Raphael's handwritings, they could certainly read drunk Lysithea's handwriting! 

It wouldn't be easy, of course, but those were simply the consequences the TAs had to face for their awful decisions in life; that was just the price a person had to pay, for choosing to go to grad school. 

And as Lysithea separated the wet paper one by one and failed multiple times to scan them with her phone because her hand shook, she suddenly got an idea. 

\---  
\---

Somewhere in the University of Derdriu campus, multiple calls, then voicemails, arrived to the Dean of Students' office number. 

Normally, such persistent voicemails would've been from questionable sources, and therefore have been already filtered by the phone— but this time, the caller in question was neither a voice phisher or a multi-level marketer. 

"You...fucking..."

It was something that would have proven to be far more terriying, had a human answered the call: 

"... _cocksuckers!!!!!_ "

a drunk student from their own university. 

"This isn't a fucking, _hic_ , educational institute, it's a goddamn money laundering scheme!!!!"

Who was laughing, except not really. 

"Oooohhhhh fucking goddess did I really spend all my teenage years doing nothing but studying just so I could come here and _pay_ to get even more burnt out—"

As the rant went on, the words became less and less coherent, except for a few snippets, such as:

"...and the people suggesting grad school, fucking, they think I should pay to do more of this??? Really?????"

"...parents busted their retirement funds open for this shit..."

"...no tenures because they won't fucking retire..."

"...then _still_ be unemployed but with a Ph.D next to my name aaaaAAAAAHHHHH—"

In the middle of the twenty third or fourth voicemail, the menace on other side of the line abrubtly fell silent. 

Did the caller fall asleep? Did her phone die? Did _she_ die?

That would forever remain an unsolved mystery. 

\---  
\---

According to her phone, it was six thirty when Lysithea woke up again. 

Was it six thirty AM or PM? Who knew, but her head felt like it was being busted open with the full weight of regret all college students felt upon taking morning classes.

There were hundreds of unread messages in the 😎☟𝐟𝒆ⒶＲ тн𝓔 𝔻€έ𝔯™ Ｓ𝕔ℍ𝔼ｍĮή' 𝑔𝐑ㄖ𝐔ᵖ ℃ｈＡŦ ๒𝔶 Ć𝓛卂ᑌᗪε ｖᵒ𝓷 яᎥⒺＧⓐη♚🦌 (the fancy letters and emojis were always required to be written out, for some reason); Lysithea unlocked her phone and scrolled through very encouraging messages, such as, 

_CLAUDE: lmfao i bombed it_  
_LEONIE: dropping it lol_  
_HILDA: haha that's why i never took it in the first place!_  
_LORENZ: You should all at least try, for goodness' sake._  
_RAPHAEL: its ok lorenz buddy ill treat you to something if the scores are bad!_  
_IGNATZ: well i'm uhh glad that we're all here to help each other out! how did it go for you, marianne?_  
_MARIANNE:_ 😔🙏🙏🙏

without actually reading them, because her brain was too busy processing what happened the previous night/earlier that day. 

"..."

Once the recollection was complete, Lysithea moved her shaking finger to the keyboard, slowly typing like she would die once she hit send. 

Several minutes later, the 😎☟𝐟𝒆ⒶＲ тн𝓔 𝔻€έ𝔯™ Ｓ𝕔ℍ𝔼ｍĮή' 𝑔𝐑ㄖ𝐔ᵖ ℃ｈＡŦ ๒𝔶 Ć𝓛卂ᑌᗪε ｖᵒ𝓷 яᎥⒺＧⓐη♚🦌 received a single message from their youngest model student of a friend.

It read, 

_LYSITHEA: I'm dropping out of college. Goodbye._

**Author's Note:**

> You know, this _is_ an elaborate shitpost disguised as a fanfic, but "her head felt like it was being busted open with the full weight of regret all college students felt upon taking morning classes" and "slowly typing like she would die once she hit send" are pretty banger lines. 
> 
> [My twitter](https://twitter.com/slotumn?s=09)  
> 


End file.
